


only one coming up lonesome

by natashass



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Break Up, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 18:09:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natashass/pseuds/natashass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"What’s left of you now is a shrine built from the pieces I kept of your presence, your incredible stretch of presence. It sits in our room like a sandpiper cross-legged and crying, remembering the night we met and the day you left."</i> (Giant Saint Everything - Buddy Wakefield)</p>
            </blockquote>





	only one coming up lonesome

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble if things didn't work out between Sansa and Margaery. Sorry about that.

The past two months had been horrible.

It was like a withdrawal syndrome from excess morphine in her system and it's dulling her senses, the only thing she could feel was that ache in her chest. It's been eight weeks without Sansa, some of belongings still in the apartment that they used to share.

 _Used to_. Another ache in her heart stops her from breathing. She didn't know how much it hurt when _ours_ became a _mine_ , _now_ became a _used to_.

How _I love you_ turned into _come back to me._

 

-

 

Margaery tries to become busy; distracting her mind but at the end of the day when she lays down on her bed, Sansa's natural pine scent isn't there to greet her except for the smell of new paint. The cold and harsh wind instead of Sansa's body embracing her behind like a blanket, protecting her from the cold because Sansa was never cold.

She tries to sleep, but it wouldn't come.

Margaery supposes that sleep will come only if Sansa was there beside her.

 

-

 

She never understood the concept of moving on.

Past boyfriends and girlfriend never made it this hard, because she was always the first to recover. The painful part in moving on from Sansa Stark is that it never felt this way--it's the uncertainty of leaving the person you were meant to settle down with, it's the uncertainty of being hurt again.

The painful part was that she didn't want to move on.

 

 -

 

 Margaery is crying and burying the heels of her hands into her eyes, her chest hiccuping from her choked sobs. Sansa tries to embrace her but she moves away and the pained look on her face made Margaery regret moving away, but she couldn't breathe and she couldn't stay beside her because if she does, she's going to stay.

“Do you still love me,” Sansa asks, kneeling in front of her until their eyes are leveled. Margaery bites the inside of her cheeks and looks at her with eyes that said _I do, I still do. God, I love you so much._ There is hope in Sansa's eyes, but then Margaery shakes her head so many times she feels dizzy. But in her mind, it screamed _I love you, I love you, I love you._

She takes Margaery's face between her hands and she is crying now, and Margaery's chest tightens at the misery in her face. “It's alright,” Sansa says and the fact that she tries to pull her lips up makes Margaery want to hit herself. “It's alright,” she assures Margaery, “but know that I love you so much, even if you don't love me anymore.” _I do_ , Margaery's mind screams as it remembers every night they've fought and then made up later. But something in the back of her brain tells her this isn't repairable, like the cracks in her heart.

Sansa had always been the forgiving one--Margaery was the one who made it difficult and she blames it on herself because she loves Sansa and Sansa loves her.

She wants to say I love you, but then if she does then she won't be able to leave, but she needs to because this is too much to bear--she doesn't want to hurt Sansa anymore. Through the tears, Sansa looks like she's about to say something and Margaery could feel the word in her bones so she places her finger on Sansa's lips. “Don't say it,” Margaery says, her face burning, “please _don't._ ”

 _Stay,_ she hears Sansa think. _Stay and don't leave me because I love you._ And Margaery knows that if Sansa says it, she will stay. So she halts her before she does because another night of hurting Sansa will kill her.

Sansa nods, and kisses her fingers with tenderness she doesn't deserve. “If you will leave now, it's okay,” she tells Margaery somberly with a tiny smile that had sadness written all over it. “Just don't let me see you leave.”

She is reminded of why she loved this woman in the first place, but Margaery breathes out a huff of relief and she wants to kiss her but if she does she won't be able to pull away. So Margaery embraces her tightly. “Thank you for everything,” she says to Sansa, burying her face in the auburn hair that she can spot in a crowd, that she had twisted her hands in it, and she had kissed it affectionately every night, “I have to leave because I can't stand hurting you anymore.”

When Margaery pulls away, Sansa is covering her eyes with both hands, her face still red from the exertion of sobbing. “I don't want to see you leave,” she tells Margaery as a way of explanation, “I don't want to see you go.” And she looks so childish that Margaery's heart swells as she bends down and presses a lingering kiss to her forehead, closing her eyes and trying to remember the feel of her skin underneath her lips.

Then she shoots up from her bed from the loud crack of thunder, and Margaery awakes with hot tears in her eyes, her lungs gasping for air.

Her mind is full of Sansa's hair and face and scent it was too real and it's been two months without her. So she hugs her knees to her chest and sobs all the tears out after blinking them back for so long.

Moving on was difficult, when her body is torturing her with bad memories and forgetting the good ones that she wishes to cling on to while she could.

 

-

She passes by that tree with a bench under that tree up a hill in the park, and they claimed it theirs ever since they were together, being the place they met. It was like fate played with her, because her usual walk to Law School was up that hill and fuck if her heart constricted tightly underneath her ribcage.

She sees it every day and her heart aches more painful than it is when she sits, listening to music and seeing her law book but not reading, the words jumbling together with numbers--it doesn't help.

And on the way to school on a regular day, a familiar redhead is sitting there and staring at the grass, and Margaery's stomach drops because she misses her so much that she was going to explode.

Margaery nearly turns the other way around, but something tells her that Sansa knows that she's seen her. So she approaches and sits beside her and they linger awkwardly, not speaking, the winds and leaves not making enough background noise.

But when she speaks, her voice hoarse from overuse, Margaery's chest hurts, but it was a good hurt after two months of hearing her voice in her dreams, her brain erasing the tone and lowness of Sansa's voice. “Can we at least. . .” she halts and bites her lip, “can you help me move on?”

Margaery would have laughed if she wasn't in the brink of tears. “I'm not the best person to ask,” Margaery responds, but Sansa shakes her head trying to avoid her eyes.

“I just. . .” She trails off again, and stays quiet after a long time, and Margaery think she might have fallen asleep. Law classes could fuck itself. Margaery gets startled when she speaks again. “I just want to know if you're trying to move on too.”

Margaery laughs at that. “I am.” It was only half a lie.

When Margaery places her books on the grass, her hand stops beside Sansa's and it starts warmth there. “Could we. . .” Sansa hesitates. “Could we move on together?” Her stomach drops at the word _together_ , but Margaery smiles because maybe this is what she needs--maybe them moving away from the past would help her realize that there is life other than the person beside her.

So Margaery nods, and Sansa hugs her. It hurts--the cracks in her heart, but they would have to see if the cracks don't have to be fixed, cracks that are supposed to make a person who they are.

Cracks in her heart that don't need to be filled because they taught Margaery a lesson.

They sat there, uncertain whether or not they are to be fixed or left alone to heal themselves-- but at least they know they’re not doing it alone.


End file.
